


Passing the Time

by misha_anon



Series: No Strings Attached [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP, Rutting, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1436539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_anon/pseuds/misha_anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the hot and mysterious Dean shows up, Castiel's bi-weekly visit to the laundromat is a lot less of a chore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passing the Time

Two weeks after his chance encounter with Dean at the laundromat and the fantastic blowjob that followed, Castiel finds himself humming with excitement as he picks up the basket of dirty clothes and heads out his apartment door.  He makes the short walk to the laundromat in record time, torn between hoping the enigmatic chemical engineering student will be there and abject terror of the same.

He scans the neat rows of white machines through the window as he approaches the door, unexpected disappointment settling in his stomach when he sees the room is empty. Not that he  _expected_  to see Dean, of course.  Castiel's luck is never  _that_  good.  He stares balefully at the empty washers as he goes through the motions of starting his two loads - as though it's their fault he's doing laundry alone again.

When the machines are started, Castiel drops into one of the hard plastic chairs that line the outer perimeter of the room and picks up a two-year-old  _Good Housekeeping_ , flipping absently through the pages.  He looks up hopefully at every fleeting sound, only to be disappointed again when he's still the only one in the laundromat.

"You come here often?" Dean's familiar voice accompanies his sprawling flop into the chair beside Castiel three minutes later.  When Cas looks up, Dean is smirking teasingly.

"Do you hang out here waiting to spring lame pickup lines on unsuspecting guys?" Castiel counters, excitement coursing through him like an adrenaline punch again.  Although he's fantasized about the Dean nearly constantly since their first encounter, he'd somehow forgotten just how hot he actually  _is_.

"No," Dean says indignantly.  He leans closer to whisper, "I've been saving all my lame pickup lines for  _you_."

***

Castiel doesn't remember a question being asked or a decision being made or any effort being put forth to move either of them from the uncomfortably hard plastic chairs.  There was no single moment at which either of them consciously said anything that would lead either of them to believe that they were going to end up here.

_Here_  is the laundromat's small bathroom; barely more than a closet really, with a single, dim bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.  Castiel is in the corner, backed against the locked door with the full length of Dean's muscular body pressed against his and Dean's plush lips sealed over the side of his neck.

Castiel shoves at Dean's thin t-shirt, pushing it out of the way until his palm is flat against the bare softness of Dean's waist.  Dean shivers when Castiel drags fingertips up his side and slips his other hand under the rucked fabric to drag nails down the thick muscles of his back.

"I hoped I'd see you again," Dean murmurs, biting at Castiel's jaw as his hands settle at Castiel's waist briefly before tugging at the waistband of his jeans.

"Me, too," Castiel answers breathlessly, his heart thumping in his chest as Dean's hips grind in a steady rhythm against his own.  Thirty seconds of Dean's touch and his cock is so hard he can barely stand it.  He tilts his head back and groans as Dean's lips find his throat and start to tease again, sucking and kissing.

Castiel pushes Dean away just enough to get his hands between their bodies and pours every bit of his concentration into unbuttoning the other man's jeans.  Dean's fingers slip under Castiel's waistband and slide to the button, mirroring the action even as he hums approval in Castiel's ear.

"Have you thought about this?"  Dean asks, barely a breath over the curve of Castiel's ear; his question and tone making Castiel whimper with need.  He doesn't have a chance to answer before Dean's hand is in his underwear, fingers wrapped loosely around his cock.  "Have you thought about  _me_?"

"Yessssss," Castiel hisses in reply as he pushes his hand into Dean's underwear, fingertips sliding in slick precome on velvety skin.  Dean growls, his body pressed once more to Castiel's as they begin to stroke one another's cocks.

Dean's breath comes in shivering gasps as Castiel's fingers slide up and down his shaft in a loose fist, strangled moans of pleasure bitten off in an effort to stay quiet.  Castiel curls the fingers of his free hand around the back of Dean's head and pulls him in for a kiss.  Their lips slide, wet and imprecise, as they fall into an erratic rhythm of stroking and grinding together.

" _Fuck_ ," Castiel whimpers, pulling away enough to get a lungful of air as Dean's fist starts to twist around the head of his cock, fingertips loose on the slick skin.  His legs tremble with the heat building in his misfiring nerve endings as he pulls Dean in for another frantic kiss.

Dean's tongue traces the line of Castiel's teeth, fucks in and out of his mouth to twist against his own, soft mewls and growls finding their way in the space between kisses.  Castiel strokes Dean's cock more quickly, the obscene sound of slick skin on skin altogether too loud in the tiny bathroom.  Dean's fingers match his pace, twisting and stroking until Castiel thinks he'll surely pass out from the pleasure.

"I've thought about you," Dean groans thickly as he pulls away from kissing.  His fist tightens on Castiel's shaft, stroking short and quick with each word.  "Thought about how fucking hot you are when you come.  How you act so shy but you're really a nasty fucker who lets random guys suck him off."

Castiel bites his lips together, his breath coming in painfully shallow bursts as he fucks into Dean's fingers as best he can on shaking legs.  His fingers spasm around Dean's thick cock, forgetting to move as his mind clouds with need.

"Thought about pushing you against a wall," Dean continues, his voice like silk-wrapped-gravel, "and fucking you until you scream my name."

Dean's fingers stroke expertly - exquisitely - against Castiel's stiffening cock, his free hand pushing Castiel's underwear out of the way to give himself more space.  Castiel can only moan, his cheeks flushed hot, no longer caring if anyone hears as the rough denim of Dean's jeans scrapes against the oversensitive head of his cock.

"I wanna hear you scream, Cas," Dean growls against Castiel's lips before sucking at his bottom lip.  His palm swipes over the leaking slit of Castiel's cock as he changes the angle of his grip and strokes long and slow from root to tip.

The combination of sensations is too much, tipping Castiel over the edge of orgasm into grayed out vision and pure bliss.  He strokes spastically at Dean's cock, a hoarse cry muffled when Dean's lips find his again.  Castiel's cock jerks in the circle of Dean's fingers, thick come splashing on the bare strip of his belly and running down over Dean's already slippery fingers.

Castiel groans when Dean pulls away from the kiss, breath coming in ragged gasps as his knees threaten to buckle with the aftershocks of pleasure jumping from nerve to nerve.  He tries to make his body cooperate, stroking Dean's cock with tingling fingers, but he can't focus properly even when his head starts to clear.

When he opens his eyes again, Dean is watching him; green rings around his pupils glowing bright in the dim light.  Dean holds Castiel's gaze even as he takes over the stroking of his own cock, pushing Castiel's hand gently away.  He looks into Castiel's eyes as his lashes start to dip and his breath starts to come in half-voiced moans and hitched whimpers, his hips rocking rhythmically as he fucks into his own come slick fist.

Cas struggles to catch his breath, half of him wanting to escape Dean's gaze and the other half never wanting it to stop as his hands settle once more to Dean's hips to steady him.  When Dean's eyes finally close, squeezed tight as he grunts his pleasure, Castiel dips his head.  He bites Dean's neck, then sucks at the same sweaty skin as Dean's fist moves more quickly on his own cock.  

He comes a few strokes later, hot and thick on Castiel's exposed skin as Castiel kisses his neck and his ear and bites at his jaw and murmurs nonsense against his skin.  When Dean slumps forward against Castiel, gasping and groaning, Cas is thankful his legs have steadied enough to hold them both up.

Pressed together in the small bathroom, still shivering with pleasure, Castiel strokes down Dean's sweat-damp shirt and presses a flurry of kisses to the side of his neck.  He can't help the grin that spreads across his face when Dean deadpans, "It's a good thing we're at a laundromat."

 


End file.
